Eyes Open
by Punzie the Platypus
Summary: On the ride back to Naboo after the arena battle in Geonsis, Anakin and Padmé become engaged.


_**Soli Deo gloria**_

**DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Star Wars. This is for my bestie Emily, who requested an Anakin/Padmé fanfic. I apologize if this comes across as OOC or I get a ton of info wrong; I haven't seen episode 2 in FOREVER. But please, enjoy. :3 Merry Christmas!**

Anakin watched her every move out of the corner of his eye. His human fingers played and twisted around his new sensitive robotic ones. It made him grimace to feel the new cold feeling of metal against his skin, and still feel it as his own fingers.

That duel did him in somewhat. It poured a need for revenge into him against Count Dooku, for numerous reasons. For betraying the Republic with his Separatist Clone army and providing a catalyst for the Clone Wars, for getting away unharmed from the hands of great Jedi Masters, Yoda and his own, Obi Wan, and for being the man behind one of many assassination attempts against Queen Amidala.

Padmé's head was turned down. Her formal wardrobe was set aside for traveling clothes; her thick brown hair was pulled back into a bun at the back of her head; her arms engulfed in shiny grey blouse sleeves. She wore thick shoes for walking the stone roads of Naboo and sand-colored, relaxing pants. She hadn't uttered a single word ever since they'd been healed and sent on their way back to her parents' home on Naboo.

So much had happened since their last time in Naboo. That time had been given a serious name (he was a bodyguard protecting the Senator from any attempts made on her young life) while they'd spent it goofing off and enjoying the many luxuries of beautiful Naboo, with its lush green fields, beautiful waterfronts, and friendly people.

That had been one of the most relaxing, joyous times for either of the two. But they'd gone from that to the beginning of war, facing death, blood, betrayals, and . . . confessions.

In the face of death, she could say that she loved him. Yet now, that prospect suddenly, with relief, taken away from them, she couldn't meet his eyes.

R2-D2 stood in the corner, a constant companion and friend. And also the only other being in the room besides the two heart-aching love-struck young people. He gave a little twitter and turned his head from one door to the other, scanning them. No guards on this side, and the ones on the other not within earshot. He retracted his scanner and went over to Anakin, with his sullen eyes and brooding face. R2 made a gesture over to Padmé, whose head was tipped against her folded hands. He gave a hopeful chirp.

"R2, she's in grieving right now," Anakin said. She, who'd vied for peace for the galaxies, had just fought in a massive arena against hundreds of clones. She'd just faced the first of many battles that would follow because of Count Dooku. Another count against the Count.

R2's reply was something along the lines of 'And you're going to let her grieve alone?'

Anakin sighed and tried hard to not look at her silent figure. He failed, which exasperated him to no end. "No, R2. She doesn't need me right now. The last thing she needs is me right now." He sighed and looked out the window at the passing stars, the vast darkness filled with twinkling lights speaking of the different planets that made up the populace of the galaxies, and sighed. How could it look so calm out there when everything had just been shot to hell? He whispered, maybe to R2, maybe to himself, and maybe to no one in particular, "Why'd we have to go and fall in love?"

Really, it was the one thing Anakin thought wouldn't be hard for him when he'd become a Jedi. (Then again, he'd been a young lad around the age of viewing girls as gross when he'd been initiated.) Hadn't he been doing excellently in being trained as a Jedi? Wasn't he skilled, talented, taught to have the mindset of a proper Jedi, where romantic love isn't only discouraged but prohibited, so that a Jedi's loyalty is to nothing but to the Jedi Order and its protection of the light side of the Force?

Perhaps because he had loved his mother deeply. Perhaps because he needed someone to love to replace her as a subject of affection, and it grew into something romantic as well as deeply affectionate. He loved his mother, yes, but Padmé was his everything.

It was wrong of the Jedi Order to prohibit it. Love wasn't a bad thing, he reasoned. And yet here they were, torn apart by love, because it was forbidden.

Anakin found himself at a crossroads: to pursue being a Jedi in this imperative, dangerous time, to give himself to defeating the Dark Side and bringing balance to the Force however he could fighting as a Jedi. Or to give his devotion and loyalty rather to a single political leader.

He didn't much like politicians. Except maybe two or three. Or just her.

Those were the choices laid before him: to be a Jedi, or to love Padmé? An ache for both of them nearly torn him in two, and he angrily turned from the window. R2-D2 was right there two inches from his face, and he said, frustrated and lashing out, "What do you want?"

"Excuse me?" Padmé said. Her head rose from her hands, her face contorted in confusion and anger.

"I wasn't talking to you. Rather, R2. He doesn't know when to shut up and give up," Anakin said, looking at R2 the whole time as to not look Padmé in the face.

"Well, if you don't want to talk to R2, you can talk to me instead," Padmé said in an even tone. It didn't betray the hope she felt these words would tell him.

"I didn't know that you wanted to talk," Anakin said. He almost kicked himself for the stupidity of his casual words, and decided to force himself up from the cushioned bench he'd been on the entire ride and take a seat beside her. They didn't meet eyes for a moment as they awkwardly sat on the edges of their seats.

R2-D2 slid forward. A device from his circular body came popping out and he gestured between the two of them. He'd been the sole witness of these two's adventures (besides the numerous times they'd ordered him to 'stay with the ship') and had seen what'd grown between them, and now he was to be a catalyst for the joining of them.

"Now you know," Padmé said evenly, not quite meeting his eyes. Then she breathed deeply, firmly reminded herself that she'd met the eyes of dangerous, bloodthirsty animals, droid fire, countless assassination attempts . . . surely she could meet someone whom she loved in the eyes. So she looked up with fire in her eyes, boldly, unapologetically, and said, "Please speak to me, Anakin. I cannot stand this silence between us."

Anakin brooded and stared at the floor of the ship instead.

Padmé refused to give up on him so easily. "Anakin," she said, turning her body toward him, inviting him to do the same, "what I said back there at the entrance to the arena—"

"Did you really mean it?" Anakin said. Now he met her eyes, and they held tears that he refused to fall. He wouldn't let them fall because he wouldn't let her see him, a Jedi, fearless, courageous, and brave, show a sign of weakness like that. She'd seen the aftermath of him after he'd taken a vengeful light saber to that settlement of Tusken Raiders after they'd tortured Shmi, his mother, to death, oh yes, but he'd vowed that that'd be the last time she'd ever see him in such an emotional, irrational state. He silently cursed himself for acting this way now.

"I did, Anakin," Padmé said firmly, with conviction. Her small hand caught at his robotic fingers and gave him a squeeze. He was surprised not only by the physical touch, but also by the fact that he could feel her warmth and her touch against his new appendages just the same as if they'd been his forever. She craned her neck and implored into his face, which despite his best efforts he couldn't keep from her, and insisted, without nary a word, for him to see her truth. "I loved you then, right before we were going to die, and I love you now, and I want to be able to love you forever. I can love you forever. But I need a promise, or else it'll be useless."

"It is useless," Anakin said dully. "I'm a Jedi. We can't marry. It's the rules."

"The rules are ruthless and senseless, then," Padmé said passionately.

Anakin looked at her with a quick whip of his head. "They are the rules of the Jedi, and I'm governed by them," he said harshly.

"I'm governed by the rules the Senate gives me, and the rules of my homeland; and I would gladly give those up for you," she pleaded. Then she breathed heavily, and sighed deeply, covering a half-sob, and said, "But then, since you don't feel the same way, I won't ask the same of you." She looked away and made to stand up, but Anakin's human hand caught her other and held it with this gentleness and tenderness that was suppressed, the hand usually used for the handling of a death blow with his Light Saber. And he met her eyes with this urgent, needy look in them, and he pulled her hands down with the unspoken words of 'please stay' and Padmé found his argument convincing. She resumed her seat next to him, and R2 turned a respectful, third-wheel eye away.

"You would throw all you've worked for away, for me?" Anakin asked hesitantly.

Padmé said with a sharp intake of breath, "Gladly. I'd do anything for you, Ani; you should know that by now."

Anakin's words stumbled and tripped as he tried to say something of eloquence that expressed his feelings totally to this woman who'd rather be with him than on the side of the rest of their world. "I do feel—deeply for you, my lady—"

"Padmé, Ani," Padmé gently told him.

This note of casualness seemed to suck some of the nervous energy out of him, and he breathed a little easier. Then he said coldly, "However, I owe loyalty to Obi Wan, my master, and the Council, and the Jedi Order—"

"Fine," Padmé said, and she made to withdraw her hands from him. But he grasped her tighter and said with such raw _need_, and heart, and passion, and aching, "But I don't love any of them like I love you, Padmé." He came to a sudden realization that surprised him to his very core and yet made too much sense. "I don't _want_ any of them at the cost of you, Padmé. I'm torn between the two of you, but if it's an ultimatum, I'd choose you. You'd choose me, and I'll choose you._ I choose you._" His humans fingers bent at the knuckles and his fingertips pressed against her soft, warm skin, and she closed her eyes first. He kissed her with this desperation that he hoped was conveyed to her.

He broke away first, lingering a second or two with his eyes closed before he opened them to her. She had this warm glow about her. He ignored the cheerful, boisterous chirping from the romantic R2, and she said in a worried, planet-shattering whisper, "I can't make you give up being a Jedi for me."

Then the simplest of ideas came to Anakin's mind. For the first time in days, he smiled. He lifted her chin with the softest of gestures and sweetest of cares so that she looked at him, and he said with a laugh edging his tone of voice, "I won't, then."

"What?" Padmé said, sounding beyond confused.

"I won't stop being a Jedi and you won't stop being a politician," he explained in a quiet, comforting voice. "We just have to keep us a secret." He craned his head and said imploring in soft whispers, "Your Excellency, Senator Padmé Amidala of Naboo . . . my Padmé—will you marry me?"

"Marry you?" Padmé whispered cautiously, as if her uttered words could spell treason for both of them.

"Yes," Anakin said simply. He looked quite at peace with the matter, because he now knew in his heart of hearts her answer.

Padmé gasped and a film of thoughts passed over her face, and then she said bravely, with a calm, leader's face, strong and ready to face the battles ahead, "Yes, Anakin Skywalker—my Ani, I will marry you."

He gave her this relieved, white brilliant smile, and he kissed her once again. Then she whispered worriedly, "We need witnesses for the ceremony, though—"

R2-D2 chirped, gathering both of their attention.

"Promise not to betray us, R2?" Anakin said, amused.

R2-D2 responded in a positive way, promising his solemn oath that no droid, Jedi, clone, or creature could torture the news out of him.

"We need two, though, Ani," Padmé pointed out.

Anakin thought a second, and then smiled to himself. "I've got someone in mind," he said.

"Surely not Obi Wan," Padmé said warningly.

"No," Anakin said. "C3PO."

Padmé thought a second but the word was out of her mouth quick: "Perfect." Then: "Where?"

"Naboo. Where else?" Anakin said, laughing. He shook his head at her questions and then asked one of his own: "When?"

"As soon as possible. Whenever we land," Padmé said firmly.

"Sounds like a battle plan, Your Excellency," Anakin said.

"That's Mrs. Skywalker to you, Ani," Padmé said.

Anakin smiled wistfully at her and said, "I like that name for you," before he kissed her once again.

Needless to say, the ride to Naboo no longer was ringed with anxiety and cold shoulders. The pilots heading the aircraft to the beautiful lands of Naboo couldn't guess that the Senator and her Jedi bodyguard riding in the back were now secretly, dangerously, engaged.

**OH IT'S SO CHEESY AND FLUFFY. AHHHH. **

**Thanks for reading! Merry Christmas!**


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